


One Night

by unadulteratedstorycollector



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco standing up for Hermione, F/M, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7227160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unadulteratedstorycollector/pseuds/unadulteratedstorycollector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He loves her, she hates him. He has one night to change her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night

“No.” Hermione’s hair whips in Harry’s face as she spins around. He blinks as she stalks away, her tangle of brown hair tied up into a high messy bun, her bottle green robes billowing behind her. He sighs and walks back into his office. He looks at the tall blonde man sitting on his desk and shrugs.

“Sorry Draco, I tried…” he closes the door behind him and Draco Malfoy rolls his eyes.

“No you didn’t, Potter. She walked in, saw me and stormed out.” Draco drawls, hopping down from the desk.

“And then I followed her!” Harry points out, looking over at Ron for support. Ron sighs and looks over at Draco,

“He did follow her,”

“Thank you!”

“But you should have warned her mate, you know what she’s like…” Ron raises an eyebrow at Harry and Harry huffs back to his desk, slumping down in his chair. It wasn’t like Draco was asking for something easy. When he’d come to him two months beforehand, a terrible confession itching to get out, Harry would never have even thought he’d have to get involved.

“Yeah, well…” Harry rubs his eyes under his glasses, “you couldn’t have fallen for someone easier?” her looks pointedly at Draco.

“I don’t want easier,” Draco stands taller, his broad chest puffing out slightly against his shirt, “I want her.”

“Fuck knows why,” Ron mumbles and Harry smirks at him. His very, very brief fling with Hermione had ended with him in the hospital and her refusing to apologise. Luckily it hadn’t taken long for them to solve their problem and slip back into an easy friendship. Draco turns to him and scowls.

“Just because you couldn’t handle her, doesn’t mean she’s not worth handling,” Draco sneers, his slate grey eyes flashing dangerously. Ron grins at him and holds his hands up.

“Ok, ok. No need to get defensive!” He swings back on his chair slightly, not at all bothered by Draco’s temper, “To be honest, it was a bit of a lost cause. I mean, she still can’t get over us being mates, let alone you and her… y’know…” Ron pumps his fist a little and Draco rolls his eyes at how crass his friend could be.

Harry looks down at his desk, littered with case notes and scraps of paper with his messy scrawl all over them. It somehow seems to make more sense than the situation he finds himself in now. Draco Malfoy, his one-time arch enemy, ex-Death-Eater, disinherited “blood traitor” friend in love with Hermione Granger. Or at least in lust with her. Harry glances up and catches Draco staring at a picture of Ron, Hermione and himself on one of his shelves. They’d been at the beach, a few years after the war. Harry had asked a passer-by to take a photo of them, and Hermione had jumped up, each of the boys grabbing her from one side. Her face is screaming in the photo, full of light and happiness. A few seconds later they’d thrown her in the sea. Harry smiles at the memory.

He watches Draco for a second longer, noticing the way his normally harsh eyes have softened, the way his lips have relaxed slightly, the way he softly touches the edge of the photo. So definitely love then. Harry sighs and leans back in his chair. Draco seems to catch himself and drops his hand, turning on his heel and staring back at Harry.

“Potter?” He raises one eyebrow

“You know, you only call me that when you’re pretending to be annoyed…” Harry grins at him and Ron throws a ball of paper at his head. Harry turns and glares at Ron.

“Don’t antagonise the beast, remember that he’s offered to buy us a pint when we get to the pub.” Ron raises his eyebrows and Draco smiles at him, a real smile that makes his eyes sparkle and his sharp features soften.

“Speaking of which, shall we go? You can tell me all about how you’re going to fix this thing with Hermione,” Draco opens the door and gestures for the two other men to follow him. Ron grabs his coat and leaves Harry to turn off the lights and lock the door.

*****

“I mean, can you believe it!” Hermione shrieks at Ginny, gesturing wildly and almost knocking her wine over. Ginny smiles and moves the wine away, knowing that Hermione is going to need it in twenty minutes when the guys walk into the pub. Somehow, almost instinctively, she’d known that Harry would mess things up.

“To be honest with you, hon, yeah I can…” Ginny take a sip of her own wine and looks at Hermione’s shocked face over the rim of the glass.

“What… what… what…” Hermione stutters, her face becoming flushed, her hair wild around her face.

“I can totally believe it. I mean, Draco’s changed, and he’s obviously in love with you, and my fiancé, as much as I love him, is crap at setting people up, so, yeah. I believe it.” Ginny leans back. She’d usually have much more tact than that, but Hermione clearly needs to be shocked into listening. She watches as Hermione forms her argument in her brain, the thought processes almost visible in her eyes. Ginny smirks to herself as Hermione starts,

“First of all, MALFOY has not changed, yes he may have realised that the whole pure-blood thing was a load of shit, and yes he may have finally stood up to his father, but he hasn’t changed. He’s still arrogant and self-centred and snide and…” Hermione searches for a word.

“Attractive?” Ginny suggests and Hermione’s eyes shoot to hers, full of fire.

“Infuriating!” Hermione shouts, making a few people look her way, “Secondly, Harry is fine at setting people up. He’s just not great at warning them before they walk into bastards. And Finally, Malfoy has not, is not, and never will be in love with me.” Hermione finishes, crossing her arms as if she’s won. Ginny notes with interest how her voice changed ever so slightly with her last statement. She smiles at Hermione and puts a hand on her arm.

“Are you ok?” Ginny raises her eyebrows, hoping that Hermione will see how impossible she’s being. Hermione looks over at her best female friend and sighs, relaxing slightly. Ginny smiles back and hands her, her wine.

“I’m fine,” Hermione takes a gulp from her glass, “I just… I find it hard to forget. And I try really hard to not want to punch him every time I see him, which is depressingly often since he’s such good friends with the guys.” Ginny nods sympathetically. She can appreciate how hard it must be for Hermione every time they get together to have Draco there. There’s a slight pause as Hermione takes another gulp of her wine and Ginny knows what’s coming next. “Tell me again how that happened?”

“They worked together, Draco saved their life, they bought him a pint, everyone got drunk, Draco took them to Malfoy Manor and they egged the front door, Ron and Harry took him back to their flat and he never left.” Ginny finishes her wine in one large gulp.

“But, why…?” Hermione moans.

“You know, the more you think about it, the less sense it’ll make. I mean, this man literally tortured people, but Harry, Ron, and you I might add, all defended him in trial. And now he’s different. He’s funny, and charming, and he makes a really, really good lasagne.” She looks at Hermione and sees her anger flow out of her. The beauty of Hermione is that she was never angry for long.

“I guess for those three to be friends, something must be different…” Hermione mumbles and Ginny pours herself another glass from their nearly empty bottle. Better keep some. What’s coming next definitely requires wine.

“There really is…” Ginny pats Hermione on the arm, “now listen… I know Harry can be a bit of a prick, but he’s means well… just remember that in five minutes.”

“Why?” Hermione looks at Ginny, her eyes wide, “What’s happening in five minutes?”

*****

Draco apperates to a deserted alley next to The Queen’s Head, a muggle pub that Harry and Ron have been dragging him to for years, claiming it’s nice to go somewhere where people don’t know Harry as the Saviour, Ron as the Weasley and Draco as the Death-Eater. He has to admit it has a certain charm about it. And the fact that it would piss his father off to know that he was in it is an extra bonus.

Ron and Harry pop up next to him and together they walk towards the entrance. Draco quickly transfigures his robes into a smart coat before they step into the light of the street.

“So tell me again how you’re going to fix this,” Draco drawls at Harry, fixing him with a pointed stare. Harry blushes and Ron rolls his eyes.

“He’s not going to fix it mate, Ginny’s going to fix it and then you’re going to cook her dinner,” Ron pulls his coat around his neck, trying to keep the cold from sneaking in. Draco shrugs.

“Sounds like a fair deal on her part, but Harry still owes me a favour,” Draco looks at him and Harry rubs his face. The boys pause by the door to the pub.

“So, uh… she may or may not know that you’re coming tonight…” Harry shuffles on his feet and doesn’t look at Draco. Draco feels his stomach sink. She doesn’t know he’s going to be here, which means she’s going to be in a bad mood all night. He glares at Harry and pushes open the door, scanning the room for the love of his life. He spots her sitting in a corner, draining a glass of wine. Ginny is leaning back in her chair looking amused, although her cheeks are slightly pink. From the door Draco can see that Hermione is tense, her skin pale, her leg nervously twitching. He heads to the bar, hoping that at least if he arrives with a peace offering she won’t ignore him for the whole night.

The bartender walks over and smiles at Draco, recognising him enough that he’ll serve him quickly, but not well enough to know what Draco wants to drink.

“I’ll have three Peroni and one bottle of whatever those two women in the corner are drinking,” Draco gestures over to them and the bartender raises an eyebrow before smirking and walking off. He’s been witness to more than a few heated arguments between Hermione and Draco.

Draco looks over to the table to see Harry give Ginny a kiss and Hermione an apologetic smile. Ron hugs her from behind and Draco feels a pang of jealousy. He shakes his head, banishing the ridiculous thought. Ron and Hermione didn’t have those sort of feeling for each other. At least she has some feeling other than hate for him, his mind reminds him treacherously. Draco closes his eyes slightly, turns back to the bar, pays the bartender and saunters over to the table.

“I come baring gifts,” Draco smiles as he arrives at the table. Hermione turns and Draco’s breath catches in his throat. Her deep brown eyes are full of anger and spirit, her hair pulled loose and hanging wildly over her shoulders, her chin angled up in defiance, presenting full pink lips that Draco has fantasised about a million times. He tries to smile at her and places the bottle on the table in front of Ginny. She gives him an encouraging grin and Draco sits down in the seat next to Hermione.

“Thank you Draco,” Ginny pours herself a fresh glass of wine and settles back, leaning into Harry. Draco watches them and a wave of sadness floods him. There’s silence for a moment and the men click their bottles and take a drink. Draco tries to ignore the unsubtle eye movements and gestures from his friends. He doesn’t want to know what they’re planning.

“Hermione, did you know that Draco has tickets to that magical creatures ball thing on Friday?” Harry says slightly too brightly. Draco looks at him. He doesn’t have tickets to the Magical Creatures Liberation ball, mainly because he’s 100% sure his father will be there, trying to look like he gives a shit about something other than himself. Hermione turns to him, the surprise obvious on her face. He smiles at her, hoping that he doesn’t look as surprised as she clearly was at the news. He watches as a spark lights in her eyes and he tries to hold back a groan. He’s seen that flicker a hundred times. She’s about to try to make them argue.

“I didn’t know you cared about things Malfoy,” Hermione’s voice is clipped, too high and polite. Her eyes bore into his and although he’s desperate to look away, to glance at his friends for help, he keeps his eyes on hers.

“There’s lots you don’t know about me,” he grins, hoping that he can charm her, knowing that he can’t. Hermione cocks her head to the side slightly.

“So what magical creature is it that you’re so keen to help liberate?” Hermione looks at him sweetly and his stomach drops to the floor. This is her department, it’s what she does for a living. There isn’t anything to know about the liberation of magical creatures that she doesn’t know. Draco tries not to swallow, tries not to make his discomfort obvious, hoping that his so-called friends will help him out.

They don’t.

“Hippogriffs,” Draco says, trying to ignore the sniggers of Ron behind Hermione. Why the fuck did he say Hippogriffs?

“Hippogriffs?” Hermione raises one eyebrow, clearly thinking the same thing that he is. He nods to her, warming to his position.

“Yes. They are a very misunderstood creature, and if anyone knows that, it’s me.” Draco puts on his best wounded face and holds his arm. Hermione looks at him for a second before bursting out laughing, her face lighting up. Draco watches her, his heart aching with how beautiful she looks.

“Ok, Malfoy, sure…” she laughs and turns to get up. Draco grabs her arm and she turns to glare at him.

“What’s so unbelievable about that?” He demands. The fact that it isn’t fucking true! His head screams at him. He ignores it.

“Uh, because you’re Malfoy. And people don’t change that much,” Hermione yanks her arm out of his grip.

“You’re wrong!” Malfoy stands up and the bartender glances up from the bar, shaking his head.

“Oh really? I’m wrong, am I? You care so much about magical creatures and their plight?” Hermione hisses, keeping her voice low and crossing her arms. From their seat Harry, Ron and Ginny watch in interest. This is a new turn for their arguments. Usually Hermione storms out and Draco slumps down on his chair and moans for an hour about how blind and stubborn she is.

“Yes!” He glares at Hermione. She raises one eyebrow, looking unimpressed, “Ok, fine, no.” Hermione smirks.

“I knew…”

“No, you didn’t. Because I do care…”

“You just said you didn’t…”

“But I do,” Draco takes a step towards her, his face inches away from hers, “I care that house elves who want it aren’t given their freedom and when they are they’re given shit pay,” Draco says through gritted teeth, keeping his voice low, “and I do care that giants aren’t given the space to live, and I do care that my cousin can’t live like a normal kid because every month he has a little episode, and I do care that we still kill certain creatures for their magical properties, and I care that…” He looks in her eyes, at the confusion over her face and sighs.

“Care that what?” Hermione regains her composure and stands up straighter, her eyes still only level with his neck.

“I doesn’t matter, because you won’t change your mind about me,” Draco looks at her sadly. There’s a pause around the table and Hermione looks down. Draco glances over his shoulder, watching as Ginny and Hermione have a silent conversation and Harry and Ron look on, their eyes huge, smirks on their faces. They’ve all known each other long enough to know what’s being said, and Draco feels the familiar yearning to be part of that.

Hermione looks up at Draco, her eyes slightly warmer and he feels a pull in his chest, telling him to move towards her.

“Fine,” she says and he’s instantly snapped out of her stupor, “You have one night to prove to me that you’ve changed. You can take me to the ball. I need to go anyway. One night.” She hold up a finger and then twirls and storms out. Draco releases a breath and flops down in his chair.

“Isn’t she brilliant?” Ron says, tapping Draco on the knee. Draco looks over to him in a daze.

“Who?” Draco looks confused.

“Me of course!” Ginny smiles at him, pointing to herself and looking pleased. He looks at her and scowls.

“How are you a genius? I don’t have tickets to that ball, and even if I did, I wouldn’t be going.” Draco takes a swig of his now luke warm beer.

“Because she just got you a date with Hermione, and she made Hermione think it was her idea!” Ron beams at his sister with pride and she tilts her glass at him. Draco looks between them.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have tickets!” Draco huffs.

“We do,” Harry grins, “I get tickets to shit like that all the time. You can have ours. I wanted a way to get out of it anyway.” Draco looks at the three of them, out of excuses and seriously beginning to feel sick.

“Oh, Draco, sweetie. No need to look so worried.” Ginny pats his hand and he leans his head back against the wall. What a perfect start to the night.

*****

Hermione looks at herself in the mirror. Ginny has insisted that she borrow one of her dresses. It’s long and emerald green and had no back. She feels a little exposed, but she also knows she looks half way decent. Her hair still isn’t behaving, curling wildly around her, but she finds she didn’t mind. It’s her thing, and she sort of likes it.

When she’d challenged Malfoy to take her to the ball she hadn’t really thought he would accept. She knew that he had no problems with Harry and Ron, but Ron was a pureblood, and Harry was the Saviour. Malfoy had always been good at seeking out power. Just like his father. Just like his aunt. But he hadn’t. He’d called her the next day, using a muggle phone, and confirmed the date. He’d seemed happy, but it was probably because he felt like he’d won something. Because, seriously, there was no way that Draco Malfoy actually liked her. No matter what Ginny said.

She straightens her dress slightly and heads down her stairs. She lives in a small house on the very outskirts of London, in a muggle area. She find that it gave her some comfort living in a world that she knows, that had no idea of what she had been through. She looks at herself in the mirror again. Nothing changed in the last thirty seconds she reminds herself, ignoring the niggling feeling in her stomach. She isn’t nervous, and even if she was it would be because there were going to be a lot of important people at this event, and she really needed the funding to get her scheme for underage werewolves running. It absolutely has nothing to do with Draco fucking Malfoy.

There’s a knock at her door and she takes a deep breath, picking up her bag and a shawl and opening the door. Malfoy is standing there, wearing a tight fitting charcoal grey suit and a grey shirt that makes his eyes stand out. She notes that he isn’t wearing a tie and that he has a button undone. She can see the little v at the bottom of his neck and a spasm shoots through her body to her core. No, she will not find Draco Malfoy attractive.

Hermione smiles and gestures for him to come in. He brushes past her, smelling of vanilla and coconut, and she’s so shocked by the smell that she stops breathing for a second. She turns and looks at him again, meeting his eyes and something in the back of her head screams at her.

“You look…” Draco starts, and then smiles at her, “beautiful.” He produces a small single flower from behind his back. She takes it and looks at it, not really recognising what it is. Malfoy takes a step closer and Hermione is once again hit with a wash of vanilla and coconut. “It’s an herb. If you crush it and put it in hot water it will soothe whatever ache or pain you have. It even heals cuts faster.” He explains and Hermione looks up at him, shocked that he’d given her something useful.

“Thank you,” Hermione whispers, placing the flower on a table in front of the mirror.

“It’s…” Draco rubs his hands through his hair, making it stick up at odd angles, “Ron mentioned how your back hurts from hunching over books too much, and Ginny said you always complain about useless presents…” he mumbles and Hermione notices a small blush rise up his neck. His long neck, skin creamy and smooth, the faint shadow of stubble creeping up across his strong jaw. It occurs to Hermione that he’s still all angles, just like he used to be, but somehow the angles are stronger, and thicker. There’s a pause as he looks down at her, watching her look at him. He coughs and it brings her out of her trance.

“Shall we go?” She motions, and Draco holds out his arm for her to side-along. She hasn’t side-alonged with anyone in a while, and the twist in her stomach shocks her. She stumbles slightly and Malfoy holds out a hand to stop her from falling. The heat of his hand on her side spreads through her, and she steps back. This is Malfoy. Malfoy who hates muggle-borns and who spent seven years taunting her and her friends and who watched as his aunt torture her in his house.

She looks into his eyes and sees a flash of sadness cross over them.

*****

This wasn’t going as Draco had planned. He’d hoped that he would be able to walk into the ball and not be noticed. Or even if he was, ignored. Instead there are harsh whispers going around and it only takes him a few seconds to find his father’s disapproving eyes. Well fuck him. Draco turns to Hermione and holds out a hand to lead her into the room. Her fingers barely touch his. 

It doesn’t take five minutes for him to be accosted by someone he’d rather not see. He’s sat at his dining table, trying not to stare at Hermione, her luscious hair tumbling loosely around her face, when someone taps his shoulder. He knows by the faint smell of chemicals that it’s Pansy Parkinson. He turns to look at her and feels Hermione’s eyes on him.

“Well if it isn’t Draco Malfoy, gracing us with his presence,” Pansy sneers and Draco feels his back tense. Pansy had once been his best friend, his girlfriend, his partner. She knew his personally at his worst, and had liked him for who he was. But he wasn’t that person any more. She didn’t approve of this new Draco.

“Hello Pansy, you remember Hermione?” Draco turns and Hermione leans forward, rewarding Draco with a glimpse of her breasts, smooth and round.

“Hello Parkinson,” Hermione holds out her hand and Pansy sneers at it. Draco feels his anger rising at her rudeness, his chest puffing slightly.

“I didn’t think you came to these sorts of things Draco?” Pansy turns her attention back to him and he glares at her, “too many familiar faces?” Pansy smirks and Draco feels a tightness in his throat and a pressure at the base of his neck.

“I didn’t think you’d care too much,” Draco drawls, pleased that his voice doesn’t quiver. Pansy rolls her eyes and slips away. Draco takes a deep breath and turns back to Hermione. “I’m sorry… she’s.” he pauses and looks at Hermione. “This is why I don’t usually come to these.”

“Oh, but I thought you had tickets?” Hermione raises one eyebrow and Draco nods, knowing he’s been beaten.

*****

Hermione takes her glass from the bartender and scans the room for Malfoy. Not being able to find him she walks towards the large glass doors that lead out onto a terrace. She needs some air. There has been non-stop chatter since her and Malfoy walked in. She didn’t have to hear it to know they were talking about them, or at least him. She suddenly realises why it’s easier for him to be around her boys.

The air is cold and smells like water that is ready to freeze. She leans against a stone railing, looking out across the gardens of the large estate. She listens to the breeze rustle through the branches of bare trees and revels in the prickle it leaves on her skin. She takes a deep breath and is about to turn to go back into the hell-hall when she hears a voice that sounds very familiar. She walks over to the edge of the patio and looks down to the garden below. The unmistakable gleam of white blonde hair greets her, and she slips back, hoping that whoever Malfoy is talking to hasn’t noticed that she is there.

“You’re so deluded Pansy! All that shit about blood purity and the right to magic? Its crap! And you know it! But, what, you feel you’re so superior to everyone else that you have the right to be bigoted and bitchy?” Malfoy’s voice is harsh, harsher than Hermione has ever heard it.

“But it’s Hermione fucking Granger. You can’t tell me you actually like that little mud…”

“Don’t say it.” Malfoy’s voice makes Hermione shiver, “Don’t you fucking dare say it.”

“She’s a disgusting. Little. Mudblood,” Pansy sneers and Hermione feels sick, her body tensing with the venom in the words. They didn’t fight the war for this. They didn’t fight the war for people to still feel like that was… there’s a loud crack and Hermione jumps. She glances over the edge and sees Draco standing with his back to Pansy, his hand resting on a stone pillar, the other by his side, slowly dripping blood.

“If I ever hear you say that word again, I will report you to the aurors,” Draco whispers, his voice serious and strong.

“Word or not, she’s filth, not worthy of standing next to a pureblood like you…” Pansy takes a step forward and Hermione feels her lungs lurch as she chokes on her own breath. Draco spins around on his heels, glaring at Pansy.

“Hermione Granger is a million times the woman you will ever be,” he roars, looming over Pansy, “She is kind and smart and funny and if you even think for one second that it is her who isn’t worthy…” Hermione sees him shaking, his anger palpable, “I am lucky that she even considers standing next to me. Stay away from her, stay away from me, or I will have you thrown into Azkaban.” Draco swings around and Hermione darts back inside, knowing that Draco will find her.

*****

“What happened to your hand?” Hermione asks as Draco walks up to her. Her face looks a little pale and her voice is laced with worry. He looks down at his hand, swollen and bloody and realises that it’s throbbing, making him feel light headed and sick. He stumbles forward and Hermione grabs him around the middle and guides him over to a chair.

Draco’s eyes feel heavy as he watches Hermione pull her wand out of her bag and run it over his hand and there’s a searing pain, a loud crack and then complete and blissful nothing. He looks down at his hand and sees that it’s been fixed. He smiles at her and reaches up, placing a soft kiss to her cheek. She jumps back, placing her hand where he kissed her, a sweet pink colour tinting her cheeks.

“Thank you,” he murmurs and she nods, taking her drink from where she placed it on the table.

“You know, you’re heavier than I thought you would be…” Hermione mumbles, sitting next to Draco.

“You thought about how heavy I’d be?” Draco smirks and Hermione rolls her eyes. She opens her mouth to offer a retort when a loud cough makes them both turn. A short balding wizard is standing next to them, dressed in full dress robes, with a huge purple hat on his head. Hermione stands up and Draco follows her lead.

“Mr Goldsworthy, what a pleasure to see you here!” Hermione’s voice is too high and Draco looks at her. He can see the small signs that she’s nervous, her back is straighter, her smile not reaching her eyes. He places a hand on her waist and feels her lean into him slightly. His heart jumps into his throat.

“Pleasure Hermione,” He glances towards Draco and Draco immediately knows what he’s thinking.

“Have you met Draco Malfoy before, Mr Goldsworthy?” Hermione gestures to Draco and Draco holds out his hand. The little man in front of him hesitates and then takes it. His hand is warm and slightly sweaty. Draco refrains from wiping his own on his side when he lets go.

“Indeed,” Mr Goldsworthy mumbles, “So I’ve been looking over your proposal Hermione. Very interesting… Although maybe a little ahead of its time?” he gives Hermione a patronising smile and Draco feels his anger rise again. Coming to this ball had been such a bad idea.

“Which proposal is this, sweetheart?” Draco looks down at Hermione, her beautiful brown eyes glinting with tears.

“Oh, the werewolf integration scheme…” she mumbles, before turning to Mr Goldsworthy, “But I really think you’ve missed just how vital this scheme is…” She says before Mr Goldsworthy holds up his hand. Draco has a sudden urge to grab it and break every bone.

“Now, now, Hermione…”

“Actually, I think it’s a fantastic scheme,” Draco interjects, ignoring the look of surprise from Hermione, “I fully intended to fund it, but Hermione felt that she should offer it to other potential investors before giving it to her boyfriend. You understand,” Draco wraps his arm around Hermione’s waist and pulls her closer to his side. His body flushes as he feels the pressure of her soft curves against his hip.

“Oh, well… I…” Mr Goldsworthy stumbles. Draco smirks at him.

“Indeed. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to dance with my beautiful partner.” Draco reluctantly removes his arm and takes Hermione’s hand, leading her to the dance floor. He pulls her against him and they start to move in a waltz like dance.

“You didn’t have to do that…” Hermione breathes against him and a blinding lump forms in his chest as his body is filled with love.

“I wanted to. That man is an arse, and I think werewolf integration is very important,” Hermione goes to protest and Draco shakes his head, “Don’t ruin it with your talking. I will be funding your scheme, despite being cut off, and I just want to enjoy dancing with you. Is that too much to ask?” He smiles down at her and she shakes her head, resting it against his chest.

*****

Hermione has been trying for the past three hours to not think about how much Draco Malfoy has appeared to change. Because he hasn’t changed. Not really. He’s still confident and outwardly strong, and quick witted, with a sharp tongue and hidden insecurities. It’s not really his personality that has changed, it’s his attitude and values. Hermione finds that she actually quite enjoys his personality when you take away what stood behind it. She watches him as he laughs with the bartender and then walks over to the table, bringing with him her drink. He moves gracefully, his grey eyes scanning the room and settling on her, filling with warmth and love. Hermione’s breath hitches as her heart aches.

“So, are you ready for the final battle of the night?” Draco asks as her puts her glass down. Hermione frowns at him. “My father is on his way over.” Hermione whips her head around and stares into the hard grey eyes of the older Malfoy. She goes to stand but Draco holds her hand, keeping her in her chair.

“Draco,” Lucius sneers at his son, disgust coming off him in waves.

“Lucius,” Draco answers, not moving from his chair. The two men stare at each other in silence. Hermione looks between them, startled at how similar and how different they look. Draco seems softer, more laid back next to his father and Hermione turns her hand in Draco’s and give it a squeeze.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Lucius comments, sounding bored, “I didn’t realise you had the means or place in society to warrant an invitation, and I didn’t think you’d have the back bone to buy a ticket yourself.” Hermione watches as Draco sits completely still, glaring at his father.

“He came with me,” Hermione finds herself blurting out. Lucius turns his head and stabs her with his strong gaze, “This is more like work for me, and I thought bringing my… boyfriend along might make the evening go quicker.” Hermione congratulates herself on not stumbling too much at calling Draco her boyfriend. Because he isn’t. Yet, a treacherous voice in her head sings.

“I see,” Lucius snarls. He turns back to Draco and Draco suddenly stands up. He’s nearly as tall as his father, and broader and Hermione is suddenly scared for what is about to happen. She stands up and slips her hand into Draco’s, running her other hand up his arm.

“Come on, Draco, I’ve done the networking I need. There’s no other reason for us to be here,” she says, her voice louder and clearer than she feels. She pulls Draco’s arm and is glad when he follows her. When they are outside she feels Draco relax, letting out a breath she didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Thank you,” he mutters.

“Draco…”

“No…” He looks at her, standing so close she can see the flecks of blue in his grey eyes, “Thank you.” He steps forward and runs his hands through Hermione’s hair. She leans in slightly, her breath coming harder, and pulse beating faster, her fingers numb with anticipation. Draco bends his head slightly and Hermione responds, lifting on her toes.

As their lips meet Hermione feels her breath leave her, Draco’s hands wander down her back and pull her closer to him until she can feel the hard muscles of his chest pressing against her. His tongue tickles her lips and she opens her mouth, running her tongue over his, moaning against him. He pulls back and looks down at her, his pupils blown in lust, his lips pink.

“Hermione…”

“You did it…” she whispers. Draco frowns at her.

“Did what?”

“Changed my mind.” Draco laughs and dips his head to kiss her again.

“And all in one night,” He murmurs into her mouth, before falling back into his future.


End file.
